The king, ever first in the chase, whether the quarry ran on four legs or on two, found himself alone on the road leading north-west from Stirling, having outstripped his comrades in their hunt of the deer. Evening was falling and James being some miles from Stirling Castle, raised his bugle to his lips to call together his scattered followers, but before a blast broke the stillness, his majesty was accosted by a woman who emerged suddenly and unnoticed from the forest on his left hand.
My lord, the king; she said, and her voice, like the sound of silver bells, thrilled with a note of inquiry.
Yes, my lassie, answered the young man, peering down at his questioner, lowering his bugle, and reining in his frightened horse, which was startled by the sudden apparition before him. The dusk had not yet so far thickened but the king could see that his interlocutor was young and strikingly beautiful. Although dressed in the garb of the lower orders, there was a quiet and imposing dignity in her demeanour as she stood there by the side of the road. Her head was uncovered, the shawl she wore over it having slipped down to her shoulders, and her abundant hair, unknotted and unribboned, was ruddy as spun gold. Her complexion was dazzlingly fair, her eyes of the deepest blue, and her features perfection, except that her small mouth showed a trifle too much firmness, a quality which her strong but finely moulded chin corroborated and emphasised. The king, ever a connoisseur of womanly loveliness, almost held his breath as he gazed down upon the comely face upturned to him.
They told me at Stirling, she said, that you were hunting through this district, and I have been searching for you in the forest.
Good heavens, girl! cried the king; have you walked all the way from Stirling?
Aye, and much further. It is nothing, for I am accustomed to it. And now I crave a word with your majesty.
Surely, surely! replied the king with enthusiasm, no thought of danger in this unconventional encounter even occurring to him. The natural prudence of James invariably deserted him where a pretty woman was concerned. Now, instead of summoning his train, he looked anxiously up and down the road listening for any sound of his men, but the stillness seemed to increase with the darkness, and the silence was profound, not even the rustle of a leaf disturbing it.
And who, my girl, are you? continued the king, noticing that her eyes followed his glance up and down the road with some trace of apprehension in them, and that she hesitated to speak.
May it please your gracious majesty, I am humble tirewoman to that noble lady, Margaret Stuart, your honoured mother.
The king gave a whistle of astonishment.
My mother! he exclaimed. Then what in the name of Heaven are you doing here and alone, so far from Methven?
We came from Methven yesterday to her ladyships castle of Doune.
Then her ladyship must have come to a very sudden resolution to travel, for the constable of Doune is in my hunting-party, and Ill swear he expected no visitors.
My gracious lady did not wish Stuart the constable to expect her, nor does she now desire his knowledge of her presence in the castle. She commanded me to ask your majesty to request the constable to remain in Stirling, where, she understands, he spends most of his time. She begs your majesty to come to her with all speed and secrecy.
I wonder what is wrong now? mused the king. I have not heard from her for nearly a year. She has quarrelled with her third husband, I suppose, for the Tudors are all daft where matrimony is concerned.
What does your majesty say? asked the girl.
I was speaking to myself rather than to you, but I may add that I am ready to go anywhere if you are to be my guide. Lend me your hand and spring up here behind me. We will gallop to Doune at once.
The young woman drew back a step or two.
No, no, she said. The Lady Margaret is most anxious that your visit should be unknown to any but herself, so she begs you to dismiss your followers and lay your commands upon Constable Stuart of Doune.
But my followers are all of them old enough to look after themselves, objected the king, and the constable is not likely to leave Stirling where he has remained these many months.
The Lady Margaret thought, persisted the girl, that if your retinue returned to Stirling and learned of your continued absence, anxiety would ensue, and a search might be undertaken that would extend to Doune.
How did my lady mother know I was hunting when you could not have learned of my excursion until you reached Stirling? asked the king, with a glimmer of that caution which appeared to have deserted him.
The girl seemed somewhat nonplussed by the question, but she answered presently with quiet deliberation,
Her ladyship was much perturbed and feared I should not find you at the castle. She gave me various instructions, which she trusted I could accommodate to varying contingencies.
My girl, said the king leaning towards her, you do not speak like a serving-maid. What is your name?
I have been a gentlewoman, sire, she answered simply, but women, alas, cannot control their fortunes. My name is Catherine. I will now forward to Doune, and wait for you at the further side of the new bridge the tailor has built over the Teith. If you will secure your horse somewhere before coming to the river, and meet me there on foot, I will conduct you to the castle. Will you come?
Of a surety, cried the king, in a tone that left no doubt of his intentions. I shall overtake you long before you are at the bridge! As he said this the girl fled away in the darkness, and then he raised his bugle to his lips and blew a blast that speedily brought answering calls.
Jamess unexplained absences were so frequent that his announcement of an intention not to return home that night caused no surprise among his company; so, bidding him good-night, they cantered off towards Stirling, while he, unaccompanied, set his face to the north-west, and his spurs to the horses flanks, but his steed was already tired out and could not now keep pace with his impatience. To his disappointment, he did not overtake the girl, but found her waiting for him at the new bridge, and together they walked the short half mile to the castle. The young man was inclined to be conversational, but the girl made brief replies and finally besought his silence.
The night had proved exceedingly dark, and they were almost at the castle before its huge bulk loomed blackly before them. There was something so sinister in its dim, grim contour that for the first time since he set out on this night adventure, a suspicion that he was acting unwisely crossed the kings mind.
Still, he meditated, it was his mothers own castle, the constable of which was a warm friend of his almost, as one might say, a relative, for Stuart was the younger brother of his mothers husband, so what could be amiss with this visit?
You are not taking me to the main entrance, he whispered.
No, to the postern door.
But the postern door is situated in the wall high above my reach; it is intended for the exit of a possible messenger during a siege and not for the entrance of a guest.
I am acting in accordance with my instructions, replied the girl. A rope ladder descends from the postern door.
A rope ladder! that sounds promising; will you ascend it?
Yes, sire, but meanwhile, I implore your majesty to be silent.
The king said no more until the rope ladder was in his hand.
I hope it is strong, he murmured.
A rope ladder! that sounds promising; will you ascend it?
Yes, sire, but meanwhile, I implore your majesty to be silent.
The king said no more until the rope ladder was in his hand.
I hope it is strong, he murmured.
Then he mounted lightly up in the darkness, until he stood on the sill of the narrow doorway, when he reached forward his hand to assist his slower comrade in mounting, but she sprang past him without availing herself of his aid. In a low voice she begged pardon for preceding him. Then walked up and up a winding stone staircase, on whose steps there was barely room for two to pass each other. She pushed open a door and allowed some light to stream through on the turret stair, which disappeared in the darkness still further aloft.
The king found himself in a large square apartment either on the first or second story. It appeared in some sort to be a ladys boudoir, for the benches were cushioned and comfortable, and there were evidences, about on small tables, of tapestry work and other needle employment recently abandoned.
Will your majesty kindly be seated, said the girl. I must draw up the ladder, close the postern door, and then inform my lady that you are here.
She went out by the way they had entered and shut the door with a force that seemed to the king unnecessary, but he caught his breath an instant later as his quick ear seemed to tell him that a bolt had fallen. He rose at once, tried to open the door, and discovered it was indeed barred on the outside. One other exit remained to be tested; a larger door evidently communicating with another room or passage; that also he found locked. He returned to the middle of the room and stood there for a few moments with knitted brow.
Trapped, Jamie, my lad! Trapped! he muttered to himself. Now what object can my mother have in this? Does she expect by such childish means to resume her authority over me? Does she hope that her third husband shall rule Scotland in my name as did her second, with me a prisoner? By Saint Andrew, no!
The king seized a bench, raised it over his head and crashed it in bits against the larger door with a noise that reverberated through the castle.
Open! he cried; open instantly!
Then he paused, awaiting the result of his fury. Presently he thought he heard light footsteps coming along the passage and an instant later the huge key turned slowly in the lock. The door opened, and to his amazement he saw standing before him with wide frightened eyes, his guide, but dressed now as a lady.
Madam, said the king sternly, I ask you the meaning of this pleasantry?
Pleasantry, echoed the girl, staring at him with her hand upon a huge iron key, alert to run if this handsome maniac, strewn round by the wreckage of the bench he had broken, attempted to lay hands on her.
Pleasantry? she repeated; that is a question I may well ask you. Who are you, sir, and what are you doing here?
Who I am, and what I am doing here, you know very well, because you brought me here. A change of garb does not change a well-remembered face, and the king bowed to his visitor with a return of his customary courtliness, now that his suspicions were allayed, for he knew how to deal with pretty women. Madam, there is no queen in Scotland, but you are queen by right of nature, and though you doff your gown, you cannot change your golden crown.
The girls hand unconsciously went up to her ruddy hair, while she murmured more to herself than to him,
This is some of Catherines work.
Catherine was your name in the forest, my lady, what is your name in the castle?
Isabel is my name in castle and forest alike. You have met my twin sister, Catherine. Why has she brought you here?
Like an obedient son, I am here at the command of my honourable mother; and your sister if indeed goddesses so strangely fair, and so strangely similar can be two persons has gone to acquaint my mother of my arrival.
The girls alarm seemed to increase as the kings diminished. Trouble, dismay, and fear marred her perfect face, and as the king scrutinised her more minutely, he saw that the firm mouth and the resolute chin of her sister had no place in the more softened and womanly features of the lady before him.
Your mother? Who is she?
First, Margaret Tudor, daughter of the King of England, second, Margaret Stuart, wife of the King of Scotland, third, Margaret Douglas, ill mate of the Earl of Angus; fourth, and let us hope finally, Margaret Stuart again, spouse of Lord Methven, and owner of this castle.
The girl swayed as if she would fall, all colour struck suddenly from her face. She leaned, nearly fainting, against the stone wall, passing her hand once or twice across her terror-filled eyes.
Great God, she moaned, do not tell me that you are James, King of Scotland, here, and alone, in this den of Douglases!
Douglas! cried the king roused at the hated name. How can there be Douglases in the Castle of Doune; my mothers house, constabled by my friend, young Stuart.
Your mothers house? said the girl with an uncanny laugh. When has the Lady Margaret set foot in Doune? Not since she was divorced from my uncle, Archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus! And the constable? Aye, the constable is in Stirling. Doune Castle stands gloomy and alone, but in Stirling with the young king, there are masques, and hunting and gaiety. Young Stuart draws the revenues of his charge, but pays slight attention to the fulfilment of his duty.
You are then Isabel Douglas? And now, to echo your own question, how came you here? If this is a den of Douglases, as you say, how comes my mothers castle to be officered by the enemies of her son?
That you ask such a question shows little foresight or knowledge of men. When your first step-father, and my uncle, Archibald Douglas, had control of this castle through your mothers name, he filled it with his own adherents.
Naturally; nepotism was a well-known trait of my domineering step-father, which did not add to his popularity in Scotland. Who can get office, or justice against a Douglas? was their cry. But did not young Stuart, when he was made constable, put in his own men?
The constable cares nothing for this stronghold so long as it furnishes money which he may spend gaily in Stirling.
I see. So you and your sister found refuge among your underlings? and where so safe from search as within the kings mothers own fortress, almost under the shadow of Stirling? An admirable device. Why then do you jeopardise your safety by letting me into the secret?
The girl sighed deeply with downcast eyes, then she flashed a glance at him which had something in it of the old Douglas hauteur.
I fear, she said, that it is not our safety which is jeopardised.
You mean that I am in danger?
The same stronghold which gives immunity to a family of the Red Douglases can hardly be expected to confer security upon James the Fifth, their persecutor.
No. Certainly that would be too much to expect. Are you then in this plot against me, my lady?
I have not heard of any plot. If there is one I know nothing of it. I merely acquaint you with some hint of my fears.
Then I charge you as a loyal subject of the lawful king, to guide me from this stronghold, into which I have been cozened by treachery and falsehood.
Catherine, who had entered silently and unnoticed through the smaller door, now stepped forward, drew her sister into the room, took out the huge key, closed the door and locked it, then turned fiercely to the king. Her beautiful white right arm was bare to the elbow, the loose sleeve rolled up, and in her hand she held a dagger. With her back against the newly locked door, she said,